Carter Reed 2
Page 5And again, Theresa didn’t seem to think there was anything to talk about. She was currently most concerned about the date that had failed because of an explosion the night before, literally.
She growled now, aiming her gun at the target. “I shouldn’t be pissed, but when that bird exploded in the oven, I’d had it. That’s his idea of being romantic. Putting a sparkler in the turkey. He lit it, then stuffed it in there to hide it from me. He was going to bring it out as some grand gesture, but he forgot the sparkler was still going. My kitchen reeks of torched bird. And you know what he said afterward? He asked if I had more wine. He thought that was so funny. I swear. More wine, my ass.”
She thumbed off three shots, one right after the other, then looked up to the observation box. “Yeah, it wasn’t funny. Or romantic.”
Noah stuffed his hands back into his pockets. A glower formed on his face.
Amanda raised her gun and aimed. “How about this? Why don’t you and Noah go out tonight to one of Carter’s restaurants. Emma and I will clean the entire kitchen. We’ll get that smell out, too. You’ll never know it even happened.”
Carter’s restaurants. Hearing those words, I tensed. Would Theresa go to one of his establishments? She had never resisted before, and she still enjoyed going to Octave, the nightclub, but I worried, knowing her true feelings. What would happen if she started to shun Carter’s businesses?
Her eyes lit up. “That sounds like a great plan.” Twisting around, she hollered up as she reached over to turn on her speaker switch. “You game for that?”
“Sure.” Noah sounded resigned.
Amanda and I shared a grin at his short growl.
He nodded, unable to talk back once more.
Then she turned to me. “Is that okay with you, Emma? Would you ask Carter what restaurant he would recommend?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure he’ll recommend The Favre. And I’m pretty certain Carter won’t even need to call. You guys are always on the list to get a table.”
And other benefits. No one from Carter’s inner circle ever paid, and they always left with an expensive bottle of wine to open at home.
Looking past Theresa’s shoulder to Amanda, I laughed. She clapped her hands together silently, jumping up and down.
Time alone for Amanda and me was rare. We used to do Friday lunches, but she’d been promoted to upper management of a bakery across town. This enabled her to leave her side job at the diner next to The Richmond, and her new position left her without as much free time. Tonight, with Theresa and Noah on their date, was a gift for us as much as it was for Theresa. I knew Amanda would have wine chilling for us while we cleaned the place, and we could talk openly and honestly. We had a special bond. I loved her as a sister. We were the only two to make it out of our run-in with the Bartel family alive. Losing Mallory—and even Ben in an odd way—would always keep us connected.
Plus, Amanda had been pretty silent the last month or so, and that meant something was going on. I had plans to do an interrogation, twenty questions-style, to find out what—or who, if she’d started dating someone.
Theresa sent off another round of shots, and when her clip was done, she put it down. “I’m out.”
I still had a full clip.
“Emma?” Theresa had started for the door.
“Go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
Amanda followed her, but she whispered to me as she passed by. “You and me tonight! I’m excited. I have so much to tell you.”
So my gut had been right. I grinned at her and waited until both of them were outside of the door. It wasn’t that I wanted to shoot in secret or anything. I just wanted privacy. I wanted it to be me and the gun, just us for a moment. No bickering. No gossip. No heated undertones.
Learning how to shoot was really more for her and Amanda. I knew how to shoot. I had two bodies to prove it, but they were done from close range, not at a distance. And learning how to be better at what I already knew was never a bad idea.
As I held the gun, alone now, some of the old memories came back to me. But they were never very far away.
I had killed two men.
My voice had been soft when I called to him. He’d been raping my roommate, and he was going to kill her. I had no choice. When he turned around and saw the gun in my hand, I shot him. The bullet hit the center of his forehead.
I swallowed now, remembering Mallory as she had watched me, pinned to the wall by his hands. Her eyes had been so lifeless. They were the opposite of Ben’s. He’d been pleading for his life, but minutes earlier he’d been planning to kill Amanda, then me. My stomach churned, remembering that he was going to take me to Franco. He wanted to barter, trade me in for more money, more drugs.
He was the one who killed Mallory, but the Bartel family set all of it in motion.
I drew in a ragged breath, cradling the gun in my hands like a precious baby. This little piece of metal had caused so much havoc in my life, and it was Carter’s weapon of choice. He’d killed plenty with it when he worked for the Mauricio family.
Somehow, I knew this weapon would have a place in our lives again. I didn’t want it to, but I knew it would. And with that last thought, my hand closed over it, and I raised my arms, aiming with my feet apart, my shoulders rolled back. I shot, one after another, until my clip was done. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">